By Ali Ibrahim Roba
Traditionally, Kenyan democracy does not travel in a straight line toward an election. Governments change alliances, opposition leaders change vocabulary, political enemies discover previously unknown virtues in one another, and yesterday’s “national disaster” mysteriously becomes tomorrow’s “statesman.”
Through all this magnificent political gymnastics, however, one thing normally remains remarkably constant: the incumbent seeking a second term. Almost everything else is negotiable.
Phase One was the Post-Election Opposition Phase. This was the season of demonstrations, mass action and the famous sufurias. Ostensibly, it was a struggle for electoral justice and the cost of living; politically, it also served as an elaborate national therapy session for those still processing the disappointment of the previous election.
Phase Two was Coalition Harvesting Season, elegantly rebranded as the era of the “Broad-Based Government.” Kenyan politics once again demonstrated its extraordinary capacity to turn yesterday’s mortal enemies into today’s partners in national transformation.
The opposition discovered that government was perhaps not quite as evil when approached from inside, while the government discovered that peace and quiet could be considerably cheaper than another season of sufuria concerts.
Everyone harvested something: some harvested positions, others harvested political tranquillity, and the country harvested a fascinating new definition of “opposition.”
Phase Three has effectively been two political dramas compressed into one. First came the impeachment of Rigathi Gachagua and his subsequent determination to construct a viable opposition platform. Then came the passing of the late Raila Odinga, an event that fundamentally altered Kenya’s political architecture and created a vacuum that political ambition naturally rushed to occupy.
Predictably, this produced what might be called the Season of Instant Presidential Candidates, a fascinating Kenyan phenomenon in which political excitement can transform almost anyone with a microphone, a trending hashtag and a reasonably enthusiastic crowd into a prospective occupant of State House.
Suddenly, names such as Sifuna, Gachagua, Matiang’i and others entered presidential conversations, some propelled by genuine political possibilities and others perhaps by that wonderfully intoxicating Kenyan commodity called momentum.
But we have not yet entered the final phase.
And that is precisely where Kenyan politics becomes most interesting.
The final phase before an election has historically been the great political sorting room, the point at which excitement meets arithmetic, popularity encounters organisation, ambition confronts coalition mathematics, and social-media enthusiasm finally meets actual registered voters.
When that phase arrives, the political landscape may look almost unrecognisable.
Some may become so politically inconsequential that even retreating to lower elective positions could prove complicated. Others whom today’s commentators have already written political obituaries for may suddenly rediscover momentum, assemble unexpected coalitions and emerge as genuinely formidable presidential contenders.
And some of today’s loudest political alliances may disappear with astonishing speed, because in Kenyan politics, “permanent political friendship” normally lasts until someone produces a better coalition agreement.
That is why it is premature to interpret today’s political excitement as the architecture of the next election.
We are still watching the rehearsals. The actors are changing costumes, alliances are still under construction, presidential ambitions are available in wholesale quantities, and several people currently occupying centre stage may discover that they were merely appearing in the trailer.
The final cast has not yet been announced.
The Author is Mandera County Senator and UDM Party Leader.
